


Dinosaur wrangling 101

by twistedchick



Category: Primeval, Stargate: SG-1
Genre: 101 Times JD Hitched A Ride Challenge, Broken Wings, Gen, Hitchhiking, triceratops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-11
Updated: 2009-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-04 08:39:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedchick/pseuds/twistedchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JD encounters the team, plus triceratops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinosaur wrangling 101

J.D. cranked an eye open. Whoa. Those trees were too fucking big. Way too big.

Not only was this not Kansas any more, it wasn't even America. The only trees he knew of in the US that might be that size were some swamp cyprus down in the Everglades, if they'd survived the last few hurricanes – the old man had done some training for swamp reconnoitering and reconnaissance there decades ago – and the California redwoods, and these weren't either. The air smelled fresh with a hint of wood smoke, and the trees looked like something that Errol Flynn would be swinging through – and wasn't that a thought to wake up to.

When he sat up, he saw the sparkly ball of light, a hundred yards or so away on the other side of the road.

Great. Someone developed a new kind of wormhole. Pretty, but he didn't want to go closer until he found out where he was first. He didn't know how he'd ended by the side of this particular gravel road, but he was pretty sure that wasn't it.

A helicopter flew over, fairly low. He waved (got nothing to hide, thumbing a ride isn't illegal). It went away. Whatever. He didn't really want to be caught near their secret project anyway.

The sparkly wormhole flickered. A triceratops the size of a Sherman tank wandered through, stopped, munched thoughtfully on a bush, and looked at him.

What _had_ he been drinking last night?

No, it was still there. It grunted at him, sized him up with elephant-like eyes and figured him no problem, and continued to graze on the weeds by the roadside.

The chopper flew back over and took off faster this time.

What the hell. He climbed the nearest tree – oak, nice low branch to sit on -- so that if something alarmed it he wouldn't be stepped on – and sat cross-legged with his back against the trunk, keeping watch.

It wasn't long before the unmarked cream SUV drove up. "Excuse me," said the sandy-haired man leaning out the window, "have you by chance seen anything odd come out of that sparkly thing over there?"

"Triceratops. It went that-a-way." He pointed down the road, where the south end of the north-moving triceratops was still in view. The north-moving end was between trees, probably clearing away more brush.

"Ah. Thank you very much." The man conferred with the others in the SUV. "It looks as if our backup has been delayed. I don't suppose you'd consider helping us herd that beastie back to where it came from."

"Sure, if I can get a ride afterward."

"Anywhere you want, within reason. I'm Cutter, and this is my team – Stephen, Connor, and Abby."

"I'm JD." He jumped down, handed his pack to the guy in the back seat with the old-style English walking hat, and climbed in.

It turned out to be not that big a deal, or at least not as big a deal as he'd expected. Apparently this wasn't the first time they'd done something like this, and they had their routine down. Abby took photos, Connor had some sort of device aimed at the sparkly wormhole and was muttering to himself over the readings, Stephen was getting a tranquilizer rifle ready, and Cutter was on the phone to someone.

"No, we're going to herd it back through. Do not, I repeat, do not drive up the logging road in either direction. The last thing we need is to have to chase it through deep woods. It's only a few hundred meters away from the anomaly now; let's keep it that way." He flipped his phone shut. "You ready?"

"What do you need me to do?" JD asked. "You all look pretty organized."

"Here," Abby handed him some branches. "We're going to get around it and move it back to where it came from. When I tell you, wave the branches so you look bigger." She twinkled at him. "Not that you need to be bigger, but the technique works for me."

He grinned back at her. "What about the rest of them?"

"Cutter and Connor will be doing it too; Stephen's our backup since the Home Guard is late."

Home Guard. "I'm in England, then?" At her look, he said, "All I know is, I woke up by the side of the road, and I'm pretty sure I wasn't here when I went to sleep."

She nodded, her lips pressed together. "We'll sort it out later."

They ended up doing a lot more running than he'd expected. The triceratops had an ability to dodge and change direction very quickly, but then something that had to deal with allosaurs probably needed to do that. Once they had it on the road, they waved their branches and yelled, and it snorted a couple of times and trotted down the road, veered off and through the sparkly wormhole, which closed behind it.

"I'm really glad I didn't have to use this," Stephen said as he put the tranquilizer gun away. "That thing had skin like plate armor."

"So, where do you want to go?" Abby asked him.

"We'll have to stop at the Home Office first, so you can sign some papers under the Official Secrets Act," Cutter sounded apologetic, "and then you're free to go wherever."

He thought about it for a moment. "Any chance I can get breakfast first?"

"Hey, you helped us herd a triceratops on an empty stomach; that's definitely good for breakfast," Connor told him cheerfully. "I don't suppose you'd consider joining the team? You're a good man with a branch."

He could see Stephen's raised eyebrow without even looking for it. For a moment the thought of the old man finding out he had joined a dinosaur-chasing team in Britain was tempting. "It's a great offer, but I'm on a kind of walking tour, and I'd like to finish it first."

The others nodded as if this made sense. "I suppose whoever dropped you in the Forest of Dean stole your identification, too?" Cutter asked. "I'll see if we can lean on someone to sort that out for you."

"You don't sound surprised," JD said.

"Frankly, you're far from the strangest thing we've had to deal with. Now, where would you like to go after breakfast?"

"Nearest subway, I guess."

"No problem."

He kept his mouth shut throughout the trip to the glass-walled ARC center, privately noting that bureaucracies never changed but wishing he could send the Asgard to clone Sir James Lester and drop him into the midst of the NID, as a birthday present to the SGC. But he signed the papers "Jon Nielson", and by the time he'd finished breakfast at a pub in town (eggs, toast, sausages, grilled tomato, and blisteringly hot tea) a uniform had run in to hand over official ID papers in that name for him.

Connor dropped him at the subway station. "You know, if you ever need crash space, my mates and I have a couch." He hadn't imagined the twinkle in Connor's eye.

"I'll keep it in mind. Thanks for the ride." And he took the business card Connor handed him, and waved as he walked down into the subway.


End file.
